I expect…nay, demand high resolution images of The Duce six feet in the air, upside down, and screaming in pain. I do not expect seventeen pages telling me to add FEET to my penis which, though I must admit it was pretty clever, begs the bizarre question: Why is the internet all about my penis? I just wanted to see somebody hurt Danny Bonaduce, not sit down for tea with my wang.

You know, if I was captain of the internet, I would probably sail the dangerous seas of relevance and dock in the many ports of reason. But your way of random insanity and petty fraud seems to be working out, so I guess that’s just me.

Also, if it were up to me every single page would have full color pictures of Christina Ricci making out with Rose McGowan. Even PBS Kids pages. G is for ‘girl on girl action,’ H is for ‘Hot girl on girl action,’ I is for ‘Insanely hot girl on girl action,’ you get the idea. I would also cut down on the use of poop and crying.

But hey, if wishes were fishes… we’d all be pooping on crying fishes, I guess. You sick fucks.